Article voiceover
Synchóresi after Korina You pull a weighted blanket from storage and marvel at the smell of who you were the years you slept the scent of your dreaming discharged over and over turning. Traces of toothpaste mastic and dust. Garlic crushed and stainless steel slid between the pads of your thumb and index finger to pull what will come inevitably from your pores in the heat of another Athens afternoon. But it's the quiet part of night and the films are playing back to back black and white. A heart you once knew is beating worlds away in worlds you can't hold beyond what you remember misremember of them. What's left to study? What is it that jolts you awake after you've begun to drift leaving you sometimes shelled by shock that our desires make each of us tireless animals? Cats at the window feral and insatiably hungry. The scent of us gathered like desperate strangers clever in our waiting for a shutter to ease open in a smoke-tinged breeze so we can sneak inside. Not to escape the wild fire. We are the wild fire. And you— You don't believe this world this this can be saved. But I believe in you. I believe in the you that saves you.
I love the scents & images, & the way you travel ideas through such concrete tactile moments